SETI HORROR · YUNG SETI
I need HELP. My husband is being a complete gentleman, and I think I’m in GRAVE danger.
The title says it all. Before I explain, just know that I understand you’re going to judge me and I’m really not here for it. I know I’m an asshole.
I know what I did was wrong, believe me, so I’m not posting here to be chastised by a bunch of holier-than-thou internet folks who’ve neeeeever done anything wrong in their lives.
No, I’m here because I’m freaking the FUCK out, and I need advice ASAP in what may genuinely be a situation of life or death.
First off, I loved my husband. Truly, I did.
I can practically hear you all scoffing as you read this, but regardless of what you think about what I did it is how I feel.
My…infidelity had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with my own selfishness. I missed that excitement I felt in the early days of our relationship.
I want to preface this by saying Aaron (that’s what we’ll call him) had always been an absolute sweetheart, and even after my colossal fuck up, I was still convinced that he was my soulmate.
That is what makes the present dilemma as difficult as it is, why my mind has been twisting itself into knots like a snake, trying to determine what I need to do.
I know in my heart of hearts, that Aaron would never hurt me, could never hurt me.
He’s always handled me with so delicate a hand, you’d think I was breakable, and I could barely recall even an argument in which his voice had raised, and yet…
I can’t shake the fear that the love of my life might be planning to kill me.
Things had grown distant between Aaron and I in the previous few months. His work at a cybersecurity firm had been swallowing up much of his time, and what little I did get with him was often relegated to eating or sleeping, despite his best attempts.
One thing led to another, and I let myself get a bit too close with Brandon; an old friend from college, who I’d been casually corresponding with on Facebook for a while. He’d been making his advances less and less subtle.
What started as mild flirty texts, scratching that itch for excitement I’d felt like I’d lost with Aaron, quickly became less fulfilling, until it escalated into pictures, those pictures intensifying into videos and promises, which soon led to action.
It seemed like before I could really get a handle on what exactly I was doing, I was engaged in a full-fledged affair right under Aaron’s nose.
I – I meant to end things, truly, I did. I spent the night after my first secret meeting with Brandon just wracked with guilt, every kiss on the forehead or kind word from Aaron made thorny vines of regret squeeze tighter around my heart.
I wish I could say that was the end of it. Dear God, I know I’m an awful person, I know I should have taken it as a sign to stop.
However, if anything I did the opposite. Instead I Dulled the pain of my own betrayal, with the momentary pleasure that those secret moments offered, the wrongness of it all only adding to the intrigue.
It wasn’t until a month later, this week to be exact, that it all came to an abrupt end. As much as I regret to admit it, through no choice of my own.
Now, I’m here, writing this on my phone with shaking hands while my husband cooks us dinner downstairs, singing cheerily to himself. The heavy aroma of meat being cooked wafts up the stairs, sweet and savory, and I’ve never been more terrified of what might become of me.
…
‘I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow. To hold you again, it’s all I’ve been able to think of.’
I bit my lip, stifling the smile I felt rising in me as I read the text.
I swallowed hard, my face running hot, coughing and rubbing my palms over it to hide the blush I knew must be visible.
“You seem happy tonight. What’s up?” I met Aaron’s gaze from across the table, breaking it just as quickly as guilt blossomed in place of that secretive excitement.
He grinned up at me, spinning a forkful of the pasta he’d brought home for dinner. I stifled a frown, a twinge of sad sort of pain in my heart at his expression.
He was as adorable as ever, big brown eyes looking back at me with that childish sort of adoration he’d always had with me, his carefree grin despite the lines of age and exhaustion from work had slowly begun etching in his features.
“Nothing I just -” my mind scrambled for an adequate response, something that would pacify him enough to prevent any more questions.
“I’m happy you’re home. Always am.” I smiled, reaching across the table and placing one of my hands atop his for good measure.
His eyes lit up, grin growing into a full-blown smile as he raised it to plant a kiss.
‘How can you do this to him?’
The thought rang so loud in my mind I was almost sure he could hear it.
You’re a terrible person. He doesn’t deserve –
The gentle buzz of my phone sent pins and needles rippling atop my skin like a tidal wave, my heart tingled with a nervous, yet intoxicating sort of excitement.
I found myself searching for an excuse to step away from the table, my stomach churning with a regrettable longing.
Aaron’s smirk wavered but was back in place as soon as it had fallen. Still, in that brief instant, I wondered if I hadn’t seen a momentary glimpse of something else.
I felt a brief sense of trepidation at the thought, but it was dashed by another jolt of my nerves as the phone buzzed yet again.
“Gotta run to the bathroom,” I said, as I pulled away from the table.
He nodded briefly, chuckling.
“’Have fun, love. I’ll l pour you another glass.”
His eyes followed me as I made my way to the hall.
“Jess,” the sound of my name halted me in my tracks, heart beating with anticipation, hand almost tingling to grab for my phone.
“I know things haven’t been…perfect lately, what with the new job and everything, and maybe I’ve been slacking a bit.I can tell you’ve been feeling that… “
His voice wavered, the emotion he seemed to be trying to restrain momentarily bubbling to the surface. I felt my own spinning into a quiet maelstrom just beneath the surface.
He was right of course, hell, he was only stating a realization I’d had months prior.
I suppose I ought to offer some background on how we got here.
Aaron and I have been together for seven years and married for three wonderful years out of those.
We met our sophomore year of college in a physics class we both shared, and to hear him tell it, he was smitten from the moment we were assigned to work on that project together.
It took me a liiiitle bit longer to see the connection, but the two of us grew close over the course of that year, and eventually, I fell head over heels.
From the earliest days of our relationship, it was obvious he was the rare sort of college guy who actually listened when I spoke, often surprising me with little gifts or dates that correspond with things or interests I’d shared with him.
He was attentive and gentle, the sort of person who moved the spider outside rather than squashing it, and he was the first guy I’d dealt with who seemed not to complain that I was “too self-absorbed” or “didn’t seem to care about him as a person” or any of that nonsense. I say all this to reiterate just how much I knew then, and have known all this time, I found a gem.
But, like all relationships, with time – things began to shift. He had begun work at a new tech startup, working long hours in cyber security that kept him away from home and left him drained during the hours he was present.
He kept up with his share of the duties around the house, even maintaining much of the cooking for us, but it was different.
Things began to die down at an alarming rate, and before long I felt like our love life had already aged decades.
I suppose that’s where my selfishness played a role. I guess I had become accustomed to a certain level of romantic attention, and as the months rolled by, with far less attention being paid to me by Aaron, I began to feel dissatisfied in my relationship.
This is when I made the mistake made by so many others, and sought out the nearest replacement; letting myself get a bit too close with Brandon, an old friend from college.
We’d been casually corresponding on Facebook for a while, and he had been making his advances less and less subtle until eventually, I reciprocated.
What started as mild flirty texts, scratching that itch for excitement I’d felt like I’d lost with Aaron, quickly became less fulfilling, until it escalated into pictures, those pictures intensifying into videos and promises, which soon led to action.
It seemed like before I could really get a handle on what exactly I was doing, I was engaged in a full-fledged affair right under Aaron’s nose.
It didn’t change how I felt about him, truly, and at the moment, my insides burned with regret.
His eyes met mine, and it took everything I had not to look away.
“But I love you… and I’m gonna make sure to remind you of it more.”
I could only manage a nod before turning and hurrying to the bathroom, as the myriad of conflicting emotions battled towards the surface.
I’d like to say I blocked Brandon the moment I entered the bathroom and broke down in silent sobbing. Instead, I responded in kind.
‘Miss you too. Can’t wait for tomorrow.’
I wish it was a lie, but the truth is I was feeling so guilty about my affair that it ironically was the only thing in life that still felt good.
I sat on the lid of the toilet for a while, wondering just how I’d let things get so far, before running the water. I splashed a handful on my face, and as I stood before the mirror, I found my eyes staring anywhere but. I didn’t recognize the person looking back.
The rest of the night passed by relatively normal.
By the time I left the restroom, Aaron was cleaning up, and straightening the table. Despite the almost incredulous look he gave me, he said nothing. He threw something on the television, which I was utterly unable to focus on, my mind already on the day ahead.
Had I been more attentive, perhaps I’d have noticed just how closely he was watching me. The way he was almost searching me for something like I was under examination.
I would find out the very next day.
…
By the time I woke up, the alarm on my phone blared through the wisps of sleep as an unusual grogginess clung to me. I silently cursed each glass of wine I’d had the night prior.
As I attempted to regain my faculties through a headache far too severe for three glasses of merlot, sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window, and I could hear Aaron moving about the room.
It was ten, or little after. It would be a late start at work for Aaron today.
He had told me that things at work would be easing up soon and that due to their hard work in the months prior, they were allowed to come in a few hours later. I couldn’t help but resent that it couldn’t have come months before.
I heard him as he approached the side of the bed, my eyes still shut.
I felt a kiss on my forehead.
“After today, things will be different.” his voice was low, and while I knew his words ought to be comforting, they made guilt swirl about my gut.
I could smell the familiar cologne wafting off of him.
“I promise you and weI will go do something. I’ll take some time off and we can go somewhere, anywhere you want.” He told me, leaning over as I lay in bed, planting a parting kiss on my forehead.
I hardly opened my eyes, only nodding my response with feigned grogginess, feeling far too guilty to respond knowing what I was planning to do that very day. Through the slits that were my eyelids, I could see him watching me. He stood at the end of the bed for what felt like an unusual amount of time, his eyes on me, expression something unreadable.
For reasons I couldn’t understand, it made my skin crawl, and my heart rate quicken.
Does he know something?
I stayed frozen, suddenly feeling like a child who was unsure if they were on the verge of being in trouble, unwilling to open or close my eyes even a bit until he had left. After a few more seconds, he chuckled to himself, and shook his head, before turning and heading for the door.
I didn’t open my eyes fully until I heard the garage door closing and his car pulling out of the driveway, my heart thudding so hard in my chest that I was sure it would have given me away. When I did finally get up, it took a few minutes for me to gather myself, a whole-new wave of anxiety gnawing at me, before I started to ready myself for the day ahead.
I reached blindly across my nightstand letting my eyes shut again as I sighed with a mix of relief to be alone, and the ever-present anxiety at my overarching situation; feeling for my phone expecting my hand to brush across it at any second.
As I felt my hand slide across the empty wood, there was a surge of realization like being submerged in ice water, a jolt rolling through my entire body.
I shot up, immediately searching the table, hearing my heart thudding in my head. It sat neatly on the far corner of the table, still plugged in. I felt a cold dread beginning to knit itself into my very being.
It was all too neat…
I couldn’t remember for the life of me how I’d left it sitting the night before, but I was sure of one thing – it had been facing down. I stared at it for several seconds, as though it might change the reality, my distorted reflection stared back from the screen of my phone…
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Fuckfuckfuck.”
Every second that passed as I hurried to open the phone felt like I was moving closer to a heart attack. Nausea bubbled up like boiling water in my chest as it clicked open. I swiped up, displaying all of my open apps, scrolling immediately to the messages, and not stopping until I was on the thread named ‘Melissa’.
I felt a surge of relief as I scrolled through. Nothing had been sent from my side. I was certain if Aaron suspected anything he’d have at least questioned Brandon. It seemed, for now, my betrayal was still hidden.
The only new text from “Melissa”, had been sent the night before.
‘Looking forward to work tomorrow. Been wanting to get that project of ours done since last week.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. All of the most incriminating messages had been deleted immediately after sending.
I couldn’t help but smile, all of the previous anxiety faded as I set to getting ready for the day. By the end of the hour, I was in my car, heading out of town towards our planned meeting spot.
We’d agreed on a motel far enough away from both of our cities. One that we hoped would ensure even the brief possibility of running into anyone either of us knew. We planned to spend the day together, allowing me to return long before Aaron or his wife returned from work, hopefully raising no suspicion.
The ride there was one of peaks and valleys, almost overwhelming excitement making me jittery. Believe me, there was doubt. Hell, there were several moments stuck at red lights, in which I nearly felt myself turning the car around.
God, I should have, I just – I didn’t. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference at that point.
I pulled in front of the motel around 11:40am. The parking lot was a small square of concrete tucked at the center of the ‘L’ shaped building. Mine was one of the only vehicles in the twelve or so spaces, with the exception of an old Ford pickup well past its best days, and a sedan.
Neither of which was Brandon’s car, the picture of which I’d almost religiously committed to memory in the days before.
I debated between waiting in the car or checking in, my nerves eventually making me settle on the former; though the longer I waited the more I felt my eyes searching nervously. After sending a few texts, none of which received responses, I felt my nerves reaching a boiling point. I knew I was far enough away that no one I knew should see me, but the thought alone made my stomach flip.
After several minutes of internal debate, I quickly gathered myself and hurried into the building. The lobby was empty, a small room with puke green walls illuminated by garish fluorescent lighting.
A single man sat behind the desk, short, and slightly balding, not even bothering to glance in my direction as he watched whatever show was blaring from the screen of his phone.
After an awkward few moments, I cleared my throat, prompting an uninterested stare.
“I – we have a reservation under Billy Tucker,” I spoke, trying to sound confident as I offered the fake name Brandon had given.
The man cleared his throat, a loud, obnoxious sound, sucking his teeth as he glanced over at the wall full of keys to the side of him.
After a moment, he responded.
“That room’s already been checked in.”
I frowned, feeling a stir of confusion that only worsened my anxiety.
“Who – when?” I’d seen no sight of Brandon’s car.
Had he taken an Uber? It felt strange that I wouldn’t have seen him. The man flipped his phone, seemingly moving on to texting as a method of trying to ignore me.
Perhaps, he just wanted to get here early to surprise me.
I smiled a bit at that. Given the romantic nature of his messages, I certainly wouldn’t put it past him to try and doll the room up a bit, doing his part to make the most out of the dreary motel room. Still, it was a bit past 12:30am. He should have been there more than an hour ago, and if there was one thing I’d come to learn about Brandon it was his punctuality.
“When did -?”
“He came a few hours ago, maybe 6, maybe 7. Checked into the room, and left a few hours later.” he cut me off, finishing whatever message he was sending as he slipped his phone away.
He looked me up and down, snorting loudly for a moment as if to clear his throat.
“Seemed reallll eager for your arrival, missy.”
He stared behind me, giving little attempt at tact before grunting with and adding.
“Can’t imagine why.”
My eyes squinted, face twisting into an expression that, if looks could kill, would surely have struck him dead. My mind spun for a moment as I considered the variables. For one, it made little sense that Brandon would arrive so early.
For another, he had my number, why not respond to the string of texts I’d sent since I’d arrived?
I swallowed hard. All of my excitement for the day was quickly fading, leaving only a burning sense of anxiety. I felt like a child again, with the lingering sense that I may just be in trouble.
Had his wife caught him? The thought was like a bucket of ice water over any passion still smoldering in me. If she did, did she know who I was? Would she tell Aaron? The questions tumbled one after the other through my mind, each raising my heart rate more than the last.
“Was he alone?” I asked suddenly, hardly even realizing the words were on my lips.
“Was there anyone with him? Did someone meet him here or…I don’t know – find him?”
The man pursed his lips, staring to the ceiling in a look of exaggerated concentration.
“Ya know, come to think of it, there might have just been someone with him. Hard to remember sitting here for so long.”
I felt my heart take a plunge.
“Who? Was it a woman? Was she angry was -”
I held my tongue before I could begin rambling.
“Jesus, it was so long ago. This is a busy establishment and I’m not sure I can remember without a little help, maybe some… motivation.”
My teeth felt ready to crumble with how hard I grit them, as I reached for my wallet with all the speed and fervor of molasses. I pulled out a twenty, and at the sound of sucked teeth, pulled out another. He reached for the cash before I could even offer it, snatching it with his thick fingers, and smiled.
“Yup…yup, I remember now. There was a guy. Dark hair, maybe late twenties, early thirties. He pulled in a little bit after your Tucker fellow. Gave the name and the room number so I gave em a key. Gave me a fifty just to text him when you got here.”
I felt my heart pounding, a series of conflicting emotions and rising questions fighting for supremacy in my mind.
“He paid you to – you – you gave him the key? Who was it, did you get a name?”
He appeared indignant at the clearly accusatory tone of my question.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t get into the business of what you people do in my rooms, and I’m definitely not asking no two men about what they’re getting into. Who the fuck do you take me for?”
He stood and walked over to the wall, grabbing a key.
“Here. You’ve got the room until 8, you can take it and fuck off or just fuck off.” He huffed, turning his chair to the side as he returned to whatever he’d been watching on the phone before.
I stood for a moment, staring between the man and the keys on the table, before deciding I’d get no further with him, and snatched them up while I muttered,
“Asshole.”
As I stepped out of the lobby and back outside, the shift from anger to mild, uneasy panic was immediate. I felt my breath grow uneven as I began making my way towards the room, a quick scan of the parking lot still showed no signs of him.
My head spun. The most likely conclusion I could think of, or most prominent at least, was that he’d been found out by his wife. It couldn’t explain what the man at the front desk had told me if he was being honest, and for forty dollars I hoped he was.
Brandon had been here and been followed into the room by a man who knew the name and number to ask for. I wracked my mind for who would be following him like that. Had his wife hired a P.I? A relative, perhaps? None of it felt right. I couldn’t see any reason for someone to follow him into the room.
I arrived outside of the door, my mind still turning over the sparse details offered. I pushed it open, partly hoping to be greeted with his voice but-
It was empty. Well, not empty. I quickly made my way to the bedside, my eyes locked immediately on the note sitting on the side of the bed.
I picked it up immediately, my eyes running along the sides laced with decorative depictions of flowers.
‘Dear Jessie,
If you’ve listened to my instructions, you’re reading this on the way home. Hours after we’ve already met.
I’m not much for love notes, as you can probably tell. But I sometimes find expressing things face to face even harder, so I wrote this beforehand to make sure you’ve heard/read it at some point tonight.
The time we’ve spent talking has been the happiest I’ve felt in years.
You remind me that there’s more to all of this than the daily slog. I’m glad to share this moment with you, and here’s to the hope that perhaps, one day, it won’t have to be so covert.
P.S. Hope you like the roses.
I felt my heart pounding as I finished the letter, searching immediately for the roses, and finding none. Had he not had the time to leave them?
So he had been here, long enough to leave me a note clearly, someone had followed him in, and now he was gone.
My heart pounded, my head buzzing with rising panic as dark thoughts began to creep in. I pulled out my phone finally calling. It rang and rang, with no answer. I tried again, and again, and again, five calls more all yielding the same result.
For a moment I flirted with the thought of calling the police, but as logic followed the panic a series of flaws showed themselves with that idea.
What would I tell them?
“Officer, the man I’m cheating with failed to show up to our shady meeting, I believe he might be…” I didn’t even want to finish the thought.
It was ridiculous, of course. The more rational, albeit still painful probability was that guilt had overtaken him, and he’d turned back. The thought hurt on several levels, chiefly the guilt I felt having had the decision made for me.
Still, none of it explained what the man at the front desk had said. There had been another man to ask for a key, and who’d paid him fifty dollars to know when I’d arrived.
Someone had followed him in here.
With that emerged the darker possibility, that even if something had happened to him, I couldn’t openly report it. Getting tied into an investigation would inevitably expose what we were involved in.
I felt my stomach flip, the urge to vomit making my eyes water.
No. He’s fine. He’s fine and he simply…went home.
I tried my best to be louder than the dark thoughts, but it didn’t account for the stranger details of the day.
After a few more moments of trying to grasp the situation, I decided it best to return home early. I could think of an adequate excuse for Aaron as to why I’d be leaving “work” so soon.
I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in that silent motel room, accompanied only by my thoughts growing more unnerving by the second.
As I made my way back to the car, I felt an unwavering sense of disappointment tinged with my anxiety. I’d been looking forward to our meeting for so long, looking forward to finally feeling his arms around me, but now would be returning home with little more than worry and that note to accompany me.
If it did turn out he’d just had second thoughts it would hurt, but at that point, I just wanted an answer.
My head spun as my car roared to life, and I cast a final glance at the motel in the vain hopes he may pull into the parking lot. There was nothing of course. I sighed.
Another man with him…I picked over what the guy had told me, sifting through what few details were offered.
Dark-haired, maybe 20’s or 30’s. I felt a twinge of something cold and distant deep within. The icy claw of suspicion, faint but present.
Quickly, I pulled my key from the ignition, speed-walking across the lot and bursting into the lobby quite a bit more frenzied than I’d intended. I could hear the faint thud of my heart as it began to speed up, the eerie suspicion echoing amidst my darker thoughts.
The chubby man at the front desk shot me an irritated look as I approached, likely expecting some complaint about the room.
“The man,” I breathed, hardly even spacing out my words as they spilled forth, “The man who came with Bran – Billy. Did he have glasses?”
My stomach tightened as soon as the question left my lips, the deeper implications of the question setting my nerves alight. The man at the front desk smiled though there was no humor in the expression, his face quickly returning to that exaggerated, quizzical look.
I groaned but quickly pulled out my wallet, offering another twenty without complaint.
“As a matter of fact he did,” he said with a phony smile, “Real smart lookin’ fella, he was. Though, he didn’t seem to be in the best of moods.
I felt my breath catch. The room seemed to be spinning. His eyes searched me, a nasty smile growing.
“Something tells me that means something to you, huh? Well, I’ve got nothing else for ya. You’re welcome to stand here and keep paying me but if not -” he gestured to the door.
I nodded slowly, feeling shell-shocked as realization began to sink its icy claws into me. I realized the thought had always been there, from the moment he’d failed to arrive, growing more prominent with each strange coincidence.
“The – the key is in the room.” I breathed, turning slowly and walking towards the door, never blinking once even though my mind was spinning.
When I got to the car, I sat for several minutes, my hands clasping the steering wheel as I stared out the window ahead.
After several moments, I took out my phone and sent another text though I knew I was unlikely to get a response.
‘I just want to know that you’re okay. I’m not mad, just worried. Please text me back.”
I sighed, staring helplessly at the screen. Somewhere, in the dark reaches of my mind, the cold tendrils of an uncomfortable idea began to grip me.
I opened Google, and typed in a question, hoping beyond hope that I’d find no answer.
‘How to recover deleted messages, Iphone.’
With every second that the screen loaded, I felt nausea grow stronger. I’d never been the most tech-savvy, it was one of the many things I appreciated about Aaron as he always served as my in-house tech support over the years. I’d tried to the best of my ability to cover my tracks but… he had always known much more about the stuff than me. Finally, it finished, a series of links appeared before me, and my heart dropped.
Following the first of them, I returned quickly to my messages, hands hardly working fast enough.
I clicked edit, almost dropping my phone as I saw the deleted messages tab.
“Fuck.” My mind was immediately taken back to that morning, my phone placed so carefully on the desk.
I suddenly felt quite certain I hadn’t left it facing up.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It was all I could think of as I tapped on the conversation between Brandon and I.
Somehow, I already suspected what I might see, though I couldn’t yet understand its darkest implications.
All of our texts loaded, every single one, all of the flirtatious messages and explicit photos I’d hoped to have cast into a digital abyss, laid out bare.
As I scrolled, my mouth went dry, the breath catching in my throat as I read the last several messages sent from my phone. I realized, with dawning dread, that I recognized none of them. They hadn’t been sent by me. I checked the times – the first one was sent at 1:23am..
Long after I’d fallen asleep.
‘Hey, Aaron’s leaving earlier tomorrow. Let’s meet around 4. We want as much time as possible after all ;).’
My stomach twisted into a tight ball, vision wavering and head spinning as I read the text I never sent, the feeling only worsening with Brandon’s response.
‘Even better. Trish is leaving for her mother’s house around 6, I can think of an excuse to head out a bit early. An emergency at the hospital, probably..’
He followed it up with an image that would have made me blush any other time, but only made that ball in my stomach tighten.
‘I can’t wait to be inside of you, for you to feel my love…I’ll see u soon.’ he said to follow it up.
I rankled at that, at the thought of Aaron reading that.
‘You will.’
My head pounded as I continued the rest of the conversation. It had taken place between the time of the first message and 5am. Brandon had texted “me” to let me know he was en route, and my phone had responded back saying the same. Around 6, both sides confirmed arrival, Brandon telling “me” he’d be waiting in the room and that he had something for me.
‘I can’t wait. I’ll be there in a second. And eyes closed, I have a surprise for you, too.’
It was the last message sent from my phone that I hadn’t sent.
There was no follow-up from Brandon, the only texts remaining in the thread all coming from me from the start of that morning.
I let my phone fall to the side, clattering into the console, as my head fell onto the steering wheel. I screamed. I screamed until I could taste the coppery flavor of blood at the back of my throat, not stopping until someone pulled into the lot, and cast me an odd look.
I grappled with what to do next, what I should do. There was only one logical conclusion, desperately I wanted to avoid it, and that was that Aaron had gotten into my phone when I was asleep and sent those texts.
Given his proficiency with technology, I didn’t doubt he’d known about recovering deleted messages long beforehand and had seen what I had tried to hide. What that meant for Brandon, I wasn’t sure.
The logical, hopeful part of me told me Aaron must have confronted Brandon, maybe even threatened to expose him to his wife and made him back off. It would explain the radio silence.
The less hopeful part, which I couldn’t help but feel eerily drawn to, told me Aaron had confronted Brandon. But the outcome was that something far more sinister had happened.
I wanted to vomit, I wanted to peel out of the parking lot and tear down the nearest highway to just disappear. As the bleak reality settled in, I knew I had nowhere else to go, and even if I did, I couldn’t just disappear like that. Not without knowing what had happened.
My mind became restless with unnerving thoughts, as I started my car and pulled out of the lot, beginning the drive home. It somehow felt twice as long as before; no amount of music at any volume was drowning out the questions I was asking myself, nor the curses I was directing at my own stupid and irrational behavior.
By the time I pulled up in front of the house, my stomach was twisted into several knots. The lights were on inside, and as the garage door roared open, I saw that Aaron’s car sat waiting inside.
A part of me nearly peeled out of the driveway, not even sure of where I would go, but I kept it at bay. My stomach flipped as I turned my keys in the door, and as I opened it I was ready to see Aaron standing in wait.
As the door opened, I was greeted only by the fragrant scent of spices and cooking meat wafting out from the kitchen. The sounds of movement, clattering pots, and closing cabinets confirmed what the smell already told me. Aaron was cooking, and taking particular care with this meal, if the watering of my mouth told me anything.
Confusion served to abate some of the initial unease for a moment. I closed the door as silently as I could, though I was sure he’d heard me, and crept slowly through the living room, towards the entry to the kitchen. As I peered around the corner, I could hear Aaron humming to himself as he worked, watching as he busied himself with the meat he was sauteing.
“Dinner will be ready in ten,” I jumped as he spoke, almost forgetting that he’d heard me enter.
“Go ahead and wait at the table,” he said, turning to face me. His expression was utterly unreadable, the mask of professionalism I often saw from him on business calls, almost work-like and yet…his eyes – despite his best attempt, I could see a cold rage beneath them.
I felt my heart racing as it hammered against my chest, my mouth falling open to respond, yet I couldn’t think of what to say.
The air felt heavy, thick with a surreal sort of tension, as I was walking through a nightmare that felt like static between us. All of the day’s confusion and anxiety whirled about my head in a simultaneous maelstrom. Fear, embarrassment, worry, confusion, and a mild dread all battling for dominance.
After a long, dreadful moment of silence, I nodded, slowly making my way into the adjoining dining room.
My heart dropped as I peered into the room and saw what sat on the table. At the very center, lay a bouquet of roses, wrapped in decorative paper covered in hearts.I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat and tried not to acknowledge the uncomfortable questions it raised.
I took my seat at the far end of the table, hyper-aware of every noise from the sliding of the chair against the wood, and its creak as I sat, my nerves on high alert.
I watched as he began plating the food, still humming some unfamiliar tune to himself, the knot in my gut only tightening.
I couldn’t understand why he was behaving the way he was, why he hadn’t just confronted me already when I knew that he knew. Waiting for the other shoe to drop was torturous, and I felt as though I might be sick.
He filled two glasses with water from the pitcher, walking the plates over to the table first. He placed his down at the opposite end of the table, before approaching me. I felt my heart thump, threatening to burst free of my chest as he reached over my shoulder, placing it in front of me.
He repeated the same with the water, and without another word, took his place at the end of the table, and began eating.
I watched, eyes wide and unblinking, stomach far too twisted to even think of taking a bite yet, though what looked to be the steak did smell enticing.
After several bites, he looked up at me almost quizzically.
“Eat. Please.”
I opened my mouth as if to argue, but given the situation, it felt like the last thing I had any right to do. Reluctantly, despite the nausea still nipping at my gut, I cut into the meat and took a bite.
He nodded, as I chewed slowly. The taste was unfamiliar but deeply savory, I wondered what sort of seasoning he might have used.
“How are the green beans?” he asked over a mouthful, “I think I may have overseasoned them but who knows?”
I stared back, still in disbelief, as I chewed the gamey meat. It was delicious but unfamiliar. I took another bite. Was it elk? Deer?
“Why are you doing this?” I blurted the question before I could think better of it.
He shot me a look, confused, though I could see in it the anger barely restrained.
“Doing what, my love?” he asked, a mocking lilt in his question. “Cooking for my ungrateful, conniving, treacherous wife as I do so often? Well, why wouldn’t I?”
The sensation that pierced my chest was like a white-hot blade, my stomach lurching as he spoke. I knew he was angry, furious surely, but I’d never heard Aaron so much as address an unkind word at me, to hear such fury…almost hate, it chilled me to my core.
“I – Aaron I know I fucked up I’m -”
“Shut up, shut the fuck up.” he spat the words through clenched teeth, hands balling into fists around his utensils as he glared at me from across the table with such malice, for a moment I began to wonder just who I was sitting across.
He glared at me for several seconds, as though he were considering something unspeakable before he took a breath, his face returning to the neutral mask of before. It was like he was dealing with a client, or talking to a boss rather than his wife.
“I apologize for the outburst. Please, let’s enjoy the rest of the meal.”
tried to blink back the tears that were blurring my vision, feeling my face start to redden.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He nodded.
“I’m sure you are. You’re sorry that you forgot, for all the praise I heaped on you, I’ve always been the smarter one.” His eyes locked with mine, and I was no longer looking at the Aaron who’d loved me for the past several years, but a cold, calculated man who had been scorned.
“You’re sorry you got caught. Maybe you’re even sorry that you did it, but not because you regret it. Because you know there was no reality in which I wouldn’t have caught you.”
I could only listen as he spoke, feeling equal parts hurt and regretful that a part of me agreed with him. He smiled, the expression somehow genuine, taking another bite of the meat.
“But – it’s okay. I think I can try and forgive you. After all, it’s not a mistake I think you’ll make again..” he peered up at me.
“Right?” The question was asked in such a tone that I knew there was one answer.
“N-no, of course not.” I wanted to be relieved, and part of me was but…something was still so wrong.
My eyes fell on the roses lying on the table between us, my mind recalling the note I’d found on the motel bed. I had to know what had happened to Brandon.
“I – I’m so sorry to ask, believe me, it’s not because…I just need to know. You were at that motel, the man in the lobby told me, you paid him to tell him when I arrived. You went into the room…”
My voice shook, but I met his gaze.
“What happened to Brandon?”
He laughed, a deep genuine sound. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more until his face was red and he’d sent himself into a near coughing fit. I felt my guts twisting themselves all the while.
“Mr. I wanna be inside you?” he asked, in a mock seductive voice.
He chuckled.
“Don’t worry, I made sure your lover got his wish.”
My head spun as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.
As realization began to rise, like some beast surfacing from the dark waters, I felt my mouth begin to water, my throat heaving with the need to vomit.
“Speaking of which, how’s the steak? First time cooking something that isn’t beef, pork, or chicken, but” he shrugged, eyes gleaming with malintent.
“I think I did alright.”
